


Correct me if I'm wrong

by heartdyed



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Post-Yumenosaki, closest I've ever come to writing fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 15:08:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14428155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartdyed/pseuds/heartdyed
Summary: Makoto and Izumi meet for dinner, and Izumi has a gift ready for him.---He doesn't realize how tight he'd started gripping until he feels Izumi clasp back, warmth seeping between their palms.  The ramshackle scaffolding that holds his heart and voice steady  quavers.





	Correct me if I'm wrong

Spring thaws out the chill just enough that Makoto can almost justify to himself foregoing a muffler in the evening winds. Almost. He's leaving it off knowing he'll have to borrow something off Izumi again. Another week into April and he won't be shivering into his cardigan. It's something like a last chance for Izumi to take one look at him, sigh in aggravation, and pull off his blazer to drape it on Makoto's shoulders.

"How do you forget your coat but still remember your tacky glasses?," Izumi asks rhetorically, grousing. "Yuu-kun, I _can't_ believe your priorities." He makes certain the blazer is settled securely on Makoto's shoulders, then reaches up to fix a few stray hairs floating across Makoto's vision.

And Makoto intercepts Izumi's hand as he makes a swipe for his glasses, holding the hand away from his face. Rolls his eyes-- no wait, that's dangerous, Izumi has two hands-- and looks at Izumi again while answering, "Izumi-san, what _I_ ," with delicate subtle emphasis, "can't believe is that you're still bothering me about my tacky glasses." 

The other hand goes for his glasses, "Haah? Of course!" Just like he knew it would, as Izumi breaths out a noise that's inflected more with irritation than question. 

Makoto catches Izumi's attempt, and _now_ he can roll his eyes safely, with both of Izumi's hands in his own. He's sure they look ridiculous, which always is an odd feeling. Izumi was always, always composed and dependable when they were children. In Yumenosaki he hadn't known what to do with the new Izumi-- he's gotten used to it by now, but when they're halfway to wrestling in the park while on the way to dinner it strikes him how weird it is. It's like they missed all their childhood growing up, and are making up for it way too late. He doesn't like it, not exactly, but it doesn't get stuck in his throat the way it used to. "I'm not going to get less near-sighted just because you waited around a while."

"Duh?" Now Izumi looks at him like he's being ridiculous, as he explains patiently and reasonably, "But it's not like your only choice is those clunkers." He stops exerting so much pressure, and Makoto loosens his grip as Izumi drops his hands-- even if Makoto doesn't let go. Not yet, just in case. But Izumi's face is serious, superlicious and disdainful, "Don't tell me you're still waiting for your talent to get audience approval before you show them your pretty face?" His voice is as cold as the blue of his eyes, "If you don't think they get it by now, then you've got some serious self-esteem problems. Remind me, who won the SS again?"

Makoto's cheeks heat pink.

"It's not like that." He looks away. "It's more the opposite-- do you remember the advice you gave me at Starmine? To just front, smile for the audience. They're happy with just that, so that's all I'm giving them. If even with my _tacky, clunky glasses~ _," he repeats Izumi's words back at him with a twist of his lips, this time like he means it, "they'll smile back at me, then good. I'm not going back to letting the cameras run my life, scheduling me down until there's no room for me in it." He doesn't realize how tight he'd started gripping until he feels Izumi clasp back, warmth seeping between their palms. The ramshackle scaffolding that holds his heart and voice steady together quavers. He analyzes people on the net because he's clumsy with them in person, but even he realizes this is Izumi trying to comfort him. He starts, reeling back and only just keeps his balance.__

__He doesn't fall, but there's a thump when the borrowed blazer hits the ground._ _

__It punctuates the moment, and he works around the lump in his throat, forcing his voice to a normal friendly range. A voice like the boy next door says, "Ah-- shoot. I'll get it, Izumi-san. Wait, is there something in the pockets? It sounded like something heavy." It's an excuse to turn away entirely, and he picks it up and starts fishing through the pockets to find what made the noise._ _

__"No, wait! Don't look!" A note of panic, so Makoto glances up and then looks down deliberately anyway. He's drawn out a long thin case. There's an expensive brand name on it, etched in gold. Lindberg. He hasn't been on the modelling circuit for a while but he knows the name. He remembers. The inside will have eyeglasses-- knowing Izumi they'll be flattering, metal and built to last, to accentuate rather than distract from his eyes._ _

__In his hands, he snaps open the case with a flick of the wrists, while Izumi stands half a pace away, the only distance between them the distance Makoto put there when he pulled away._ _

__They're still, with the wind still blowing through the both of their hair, cold biting through both their clothes-- he should have worn a muffler. Inside the case, the gleaming dull light from the streetlights reflects off of matte light gold, the frame and lenses shaped something between his usual style and what's trendy. He doesn't have to wear them to know they'll suit him precisely. Izumi has enough photographs of him to be able to estimate._ _

__Seeing them shine a pale beacon in the dusky light is enough to jolt Izumi back from the stillness that possessed him. He vaults for the glasses case. Honestly, what a pain. Makoto has just enough height and enough forewarning to lift them out of reach, like he's playing keepaway. They both have practice performing, no matter what else is going on-- Izumi's voice spills out like a recording, his everyday tone divorced from the urgency of his actions, "Ugh, all right! I _guess_ I can accept it. I'd rather you grow up with enough sense to not tear yourself apart than see you put yourself out on a platter for the hyenas, you know? If those ugly glasses are really doing that much for you, you should just keep them, then." In their struggle, Izumi's elbow knocks Makoto's glasses from his face, and looking stricken Izumi drops his knees to retrieve them._ _

__When he's gotten back to his feet, Makoto's replaced them with the new pair._ _

__"Wow~ I haven't worn anything this nice in a long time." He takes in the world through the new frames, testing his focus. "You even got my prescription right. You didn't go through my things while I slept again, did you?" He laughs-- like he hadn't given that speech. Like he hadn't said anything at all._ _

__A few moments pass, Izumi staring. Even though he can see him clearly, Makoto can't read the expression on his face-- well, that's why he spends so much time doing internet research and sneaking around for information. He can't figure people out, but he can figure out explanations, rumors, plans. He thinks this is the right thing to do._ _

__He continues, "Do you want to hold onto those until after dinner for me? Since you're always trying to take them anyway~." He keeps his tone light._ _

__It does the trick. Carefully, Izumi tucks the blue-framed pair into his vest pocket, and replies, "Just until after dinner? So you're not planning on doing anything stupid, like going right back on your word, are you?"_ _

__"Why would I do that? You're such a pain." Makoto exhales, pulling on Izumi's blazer and replacing the case in the pocket he took it from. "I told you, I'm done pulling out my insides just to make some strangers smile. But you're not just an audience member. You grew up with me. You've told me you love me a hundred times, no matter how often I told you you're gross and to cut it out." Even if Izumi were to open him up, and find with his old cowardice gone there's nothing in chest but the reams of data he's been shoving in there, video game high-scores, the rotted mass of his personality, and the twisted-up wire framework that holds his smile in place, they'd be okay. He's known him long enough that none of it would come as a surprise, and he's never told Makoto to abandon change any of it. Though that isn't any of what he says. He finishes, "You never listen to me anyway, why start now? Just my face has always, always been enough for you. So if it's you. . ." He met Izumi's eyes from behind the thin gold frames. "It's fine."_ _

__His heart hammered in his chest, waiting._ _

__And then, Izumi's expression opened up--_ _

__Shit. Sometimes when he smiled, Izumi really was cute._ _

__"Wait, so you like them, then! I knew they'd suit you, I mean. I know you best, after all? Aah~ My pretty Yuu-kun! And now it's even better, your face, the most beautiful in all the world is staring at me and I won't have to share it with anyone! You're all mine~" Izumi trails off, laughing softly to himself._ _

__"Ugh." Well, cute until he opened his mouth to say something like that. Or laugh like that. "Actually, put it that way, and maybe I should ask Anzu-chan to schedule lasik soon."_ _

__"Hah!?" The noise Izumi makes is pure offense. "No way, after you just said all that? I'll call her too, I absolutely won't let you!"_ _

__"You gave me your coat, remember? You'll have a hard time doing that without your phone." Izumi opens his mouth to retort and Makoto finishes with, "And we're going to miss our dinner reservations."_ _

__"This is basically blackmail, you know? So~o annoying!" Izumi says, but takes his hand._ _

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-read by [Sacae.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sacae/pseuds/sacae) Thanks for the help and support ☆


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